


Ghost Doesn't Catch A Break

by ShrineMaidenOfRan



Series: The Crossover Series Nobody Asked For But Everyone Wants [2]
Category: VenturianTale Characters (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, I'll add character tags as I go, also this won't have a storyline per se, basically just a collection of somewhat linear oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-06-10 22:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15300951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShrineMaidenOfRan/pseuds/ShrineMaidenOfRan
Summary: The crossover continues, but this time Ghost has the home court advantage.  This can only result in shenanigans, and many explosions are likely imminent.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> we're back at it again at Ao3

Sheoth Palace has been much less busy since that whole dimensional debacle had come to a close.  No more running around for magic items, no more short and incredibly angry interdimensional men, no more existential dread.  Things had, for lack of a better term, gone back to normal.

Which was  _ woefully boring _ .

Asylum found himself meandering towards the room he had set aside for creating Ghost’s portal, with no particular plan in mind but a niggling sense that he could, should, and will get into shenanigans.  I mean, why just leave a  _ perfectly good portal around _ if you’re not gonna use it more than once?  Especially with all that effort he went through, it would just be a waste to  _ not _ use it.

It seemed as though Sari chose that precise moment to round the corner and halt in front of her husband, giving him a calculating look.

“Oh hello, my beautiful wife who I love very much.”  Asylum said innocently.

“What are you planning now, Weaver?”

“What gave you the impression I was up to something?”  Asylum’s voice was dripping with the sort of faux innocence that definitely indicated he was up to something.

“Oh I don’t know, I have it narrowed down to the skulking, or the saccharine tone of voice.”  Sari raised her eyebrows in anticipation of learning what her tiny, awful husband’s next scheme was.

“You could come with me and find out.”  Asylum said coyly, a sparkle of mischief in his eye.

“You haven’t answered my question yet.”  Sari pointed out. She crossed her arms.

“Well, I was thinking...we have a perfectly good portal to an alternate dimension  _ right over there _ …”

“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking... you better not be.”

Asylum pouted and crossed his arms as well.  “You have no way of knowing what I’m thinking.  I am an enigma.”

“Asylum we have known each other for the better part of two hundred years.  You want to use the portal to go to Ghost’s realm and pester him.”

Asylum stood there silently for a moment, plan somewhat foiled.  “...Maybe so.”

Sari was silent for a while, calculating her next move.  “There’s no way I can convince you to leave him alone, is there.”

“Absolutely not.”  When Sari just sighed he jumped to his own defense. “Hey, that gremlin  _ crashed our wedding _ ,  _ delayed our honeymoon _ ,  _ trashed our guest room _ ,  _ ate our food _ , and  _ insulted  _ us!  I think I’m perfectly entitled to a little bit of payback!”

“Do not include me in your little vendetta!  There is no  _ we  _ here!  I have no intention of invading another dimension with the sole intent to make a nuisance of myself!”

“Oh but Sari,” Asylum said, his voice shifting from one of indignation to one of coaxing, “imagine, Johnny Ghost, Paranormal Investigator Extraordinaire,  _ on his own _ , without you to remind him to take care of himself!  You  _ actually _ think he’s maintained the regimen we gave him?  Surely, it can’t do harm to just  _ check up on him _ .”

Sari huffed, slightly surprised by his decent argument.  It seemed as though Asylum knew her as well as she did him.  “Fine. But ONLY to check up on him, no shenanigans.”

“Oh but of course not, my love!  I have no idea what would make you think such a thing.”

“I think so because you’re Asylum and you’re a horrid little man that can’t resist messing with people that aren’t as strong as you.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing!”

If only Asylum had any idea that Ghost was not as weak on his home turf as he was in The Isles.

* * *

 

Three days on the road on a ghost hunt.  Sure, it wasn’t the longest he had ever spent on the road (or on the run), but it can still get pretty tiring, and he was looking forward to getting home.  He paid someone to get rid of that weird, spontaneous grape vine that Ghost obviously knows something about but refuses to elaborate on, hopefully the job was done by now.

Toast screeched the car into the parking lot, almost throwing Ghost out of his seat even though he was buckled.

“Can’t you go ten within the speed limit at any time ever?”  Ghost complained, getting out of the car at the first opportunity.

“Pff, speed limits are just suggestions.”  Toast put the car in park and climbed out, slamming the door shut behind him.

“They’re not, Johnny, they’re  _ real _ -”  Ghost’s objections were cut off by him walking squarely into Toast’s back.  “Dude, why are you just standing th- oh,  _ come ON _ !”

Toast had stopped because there were two people in front of the door, and looked like they were trying to break in.  That is, before either of them had gotten there they were. The smaller and definitely more human-looking one stood up straight and looked like he was hiding something behind his back, while the other greenish and extremely tall...person, turned around and started walking towards him with purpose, revealing a set of tusks pointing out of...their mouth, which definitely startled Toast.

“Hi.  I definitely wasn’t just trying to break in.”  Said the human looking one, being obviously suspicious.

“Of course you wer--” Toast’s typically sarcastic response was cut off by his boyfriend shoving his way in front of him.

“You WERE!  You  _ totally  _ were trying to break in!  What are you two even doing here, anyway?!  I mean,  _ besides  _ trying to break into OUR APARTMENT.”  Ghost exploded, arms flailing at the two invaders.

“ _ Sir _ \--”

“Excuse you.  How dare you speak to us like that.”  The smaller of the two said, wagging an accusatory finger.  “I will have you know, Sari and I are here with but the noblest of intentions.”

“And those would be…?”

“Checking on you, of course!  It’s been months and not a peep!  Rude, honestly.”

“ _ I  _ came here to check on you,” the green person interjected dryly, “Asylum just came here to be obnoxious.”

“He could be obnoxious in his own dimension.” Ghost grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Do you honestly think that, with an interdimensional portal in his palace, he would just leave it alone?”  

Toast leaned over slightly so he could whisper into Ghost’s ear.  “Sir? Could you  _ please  _ tell me what is going on?”

Ghost ran a hand down the side of his face.  “Alright. Fine. Johnny, this is Asylum, Prince of Madness and my eternal tormentor and his wife, Sari.”

    The respective people, Toast assumed, bowed and curtsied slightly at their introduction.

    “Oh, are you his boyfriend?  We’ve heard a bit about you!”  Sari smiled in what was probably an attempt to look friendly, though Toast wasn’t so sure, as her voice didn’t seem to match her appearance.

    “Yeah!  I...actually thought you’d be a bit taller.”  Asylum commented, as if Toast wasn’t almost a foot taller than him.

    Before Toast could respond to either of their comments, Sari started pelting Ghost with questions.

    “Have you been eating enough?  Sleeping well? Washing up?” Sari bent down to look at Ghost’s face at eye level, checking under his eyes to see if he was getting any sleep at all.

    “For your information, I  _ have _ !  Funny how much better your physical and mental state is when you aren’t stuck in a random dimension full of  _ maniacs _ .”  He spat, not exactly satisfied with his current situation.

    “Oh, as if your dimension isn’t full of maniacs, too.  It’s  _ your  _ dimension, isn’t it?”  Asylum said with an eye roll.

    Toast put a hand on Ghost’s shoulder in an effort to keep him from launching himself at Asylum.  “We should probably head inside.” He suggested in a typical understatement.

    “Sounds good.”  Ghost pulled the keys from his pocket and went to unlock the door, but found himself unable to jam the key into the slot.  He turned on his heel to glare at Asylum, who looked even more nonchalant than usual. “Did you do this?”

    “I have no idea what you’re talking about officer.”  Asylum said, studying his nails and intentionally avoiding Sari’s pointed look.  Ghost huffed and backed up, and slammed into the door with his shoulder, wincing when it definitely didn’t work.  “Need help with that?” Asylum didn’t look up from admiring his cuticles.

    “ _ No _ ,  _ Asylum _ , I have this under control.”  Ghost glared, then looked back to the door, making it vanish.  Asylum looked up from his frankly horrible attempt at appearing nonchalant, and his eyes widened more than they had for a very long time as Ghost stepped inside the building.

    “Did that door just...disappear?”  Sari asked, also very surprised by this development.

    “...yes?”  Toast responded, also confused, but for a much different reason.

    “Does it just  _ do _ that?”  Asylum wasn’t sure if he liked the notion of things randomly warping out of existence.

    “No?  Johnny deleted it?”  Someone help this poor British man that doesn’t understand one bit why the two people trying to break in are so confused.

    “He  _ what _ .”  

    “You know… he… deleted it?”  Toast gestured vaguely as the group walked inside.

    “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”  Sari phrased her confusion in a more polite tone.

    “Well it’s...uh…”  Toast didn’t know how to explain what had just happened.

    “Thanks for the answer, cheers.”  Asylum deadpanned.

    Sari punched him in the shoulder.  “Be nice!” She ordered. Asylum only rolled his eyes in response.

    Toast decided to change the subject so that some of  _ his _ questions will get answered.  “Are you the...demon?” He asked Asylum.

    “Daedra, but yes.”

    “And you’re his...wife?”

    “I’ve done too much just to be referred to as just his wife, thank you very much.”  Sari seemed a little defensive, and for good reason. If this man before her was even close to being like Ghost  _ anything _ could be an insult.

    “Sorry, this all is just very confusing.”

    “And this is  _ your  _ dimension.  Imagine how  _ we  _ feel.”  Asylum looked around, disappointed at the lack of small knick knacks he could ‘stealthily’ pocket.

    “Why are you here, anyways?”  Toast asked, hoping to dissolve some of his confusion.

    “ _ We _ ,” Sari threw a look at Asylum, telling him not to try anything, “came here to check up on Ghost.  To make sure he’s taking care of himself properly.”

    “Speaking of, where in Oblivion did he run off to?  Haven’t heard him complain for a few minutes now.” Asylum wondered.

    “I don’t know, he does that sometimes.  Anyway why are you so concerned about him?”  For Toast this rabbit hole just went deeper and deeper with no end in sight.

    “Have you seen the man?  He’s almost a skeleton!”

    “That’s just how he is!”

    “I can hear you, you know.”  Ghost said, standing in the doorway to the apartment du jour and giving his guests a look.

    “Speak of the devil.”  Asylum smiled, indicating that he was fully aware of the “joke” he just made.  Sari quietly sighed, most likely trying to avoid hurt feelings but still so very tired, but nobody else seemed to notice there was an attempt at humor made.

    “WHY are you HERE.”  All Ghost wanted was for his tormentors to get out of his own apartment that he pays for with his own damn money.

    “Because I have an intense need to protect people that don’t take care of themselves properly.”  Sari replied simply.

    “O...kay…”  The tiniest blush dusted Ghost’s face as he huffed, not willing to agree to him not taking care of himself but not wanting to disagree with Sari.

    “I had my own reasons but apparently that’s illegal or something so whatever I guess.”  Asylum pouted slightly.

    Toast wanted to say something, but wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to open any more cans of worms right now.

    “Well, you’ve checked in on me so will you leave now?”  Ghost asked, thinking his plea in vain.

    “Well, I suppose we did.  Sure, I’ll bring some pastries next time, alright?”  Sari smiled, then shooed Asylum outside through the door frame, both of them seeming to disappear when they got far enough from the house.

    Ghost had only one word to say in regards to what just happened.  “ **_Again??_ ** ”


	2. An Attempt Was Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost tries baking. Anyone that knows this man will know how well this will play out.

    It is very early in the morning, and Ghost can’t sleep.  Go figure.

    Having a venti macchiato so close to bedtime probably wasn’t a good idea, but there was no point dwelling on it now.  And there was no way that just laying in bed, though comfortable, would help him fall asleep, therefore he needed to get up.  He carefully extricated himself from the bed and the sleeping Toast that occupied it and made his way to the kitchen. Scavenging around, he found nothing he considered edible except for a few cups of noodles, which he didn’t feel like eating, considering that cup of noodles was his dinner just a few hours ago.

    Ghost stood squarely in the middle of the kitchen, steepling his fingers as he pondered his next move.  If he didn’t want to nuke another Cup Noodles, what  _ did  _ he want?  That question would probably be solved by thinking about what kind of food is available to be eaten, which seemed to consist of cup noodles and a bag of flour.  Neither of those seemed appealing, but that flour has potential, what could be made with flour…?

    Thinking about things made with flour made him think of pastries, which overlapped with the recent visit a few days ago to turn into wanting Sari’s recipe for apple tarts.

    “ _ Tarts… _ ”  He whispered.  How the Hell was he supposed to make tarts?  He needs apples, knows that much, and the flour too, so he might as well get that down from the cupboard.  Ghost climbed up onto the counter to reach the container of flour which was on the top shelf for some ungodly reason.  Seriously, whose idea was it to get an apartment with such tall ceilings? Oh right, it was a joint decision, because Toast hit his head in a doorway in the only other available apartment building in the area.  

    Ghost’s meandering thoughts continued as he secured the bag of flour and leaned back to close the cabinet and climb down.  Unfortunately he was broken from his reverie when he leaned too far back and tipped over, right off the countertop, and landed backwards with a solid  _ thud _ on the hardwood floor.

    Ghost groaned and laid there for a beat, acutely aware of his throbbing head and ass.  On the bright side, he looked down to see he had hugged the flour to his chest on his descent, leaving it unharmed instead of comedically dusted all over the kitchen.  He slowly got up and put the flour bag on the counter, then tried to think through the pain of other things he needed to get. The crust on those tarts was bread, wasn’t it?  Bread needs yeast, not a lot but just some, so he reached up and grabbed the box of yeast, grateful for not having to climb the counter again. What else does bread need...eggs?  Probably eggs. Ghost took the flour and the yeast and walked over to the fridge, setting them on a counter closer before scouring the fridge for an uncooked egg. Might need two, though, so he took out two and set them next to the flour.

    That was all he thought he needed for the crust, so he moved on to get the stuff for the filling.  He needs apples, lots of sugar, and some cinnamon. Maybe some water too, for the saucey bit. He went over to the spice cabinet and grabbed a container of cinnamon he didn’t know they had-- cinnamon went in tarts, right?

    Ghost put the assembled ingredients on the counter and sized them up.  He had almost everything in front of him… except for the apples.  _ Duh _ .  He did another circuit through the cabinets and fridge, even improbable places like under the sink and on the table, but turned up nothing.  Ghost huffed and resorted to spawning in about a dozen apples, letting them tumble onto the counter and roll onto the floor. Hey, five-second-rule.  Plus, apples have skin, it’s  _ fine _ .  He picked them all up and putting them on the counter as well.  Wow, he has to peel and chop up all those apples? This was beginning to feel like a lot more work than he signed up for.  But he did sign up for it, so all he could do was sigh as he pulled out the vegetable peeler he also didn’t know they had, and got to work.

* * *

 

    Ghost thought those tarts were looking pretty good when he put them in the oven.  Sure the dough was a little weird but it was probably supposed to be like that. Now for the worst part about cooking; cleaning up.  He dumped all the utensils and bowls and cutting boards he used in the sink, and got out a sponge and wiped down all the counters. Well, that certainly was easier than he was expecting it to be.  Now he just had to wait, and check on the tarts every few minutes. He knows what they  _ look _ like when they’re done, just doesn’t know how long it takes.  Or how hot the oven Sari used was, either, so he used the automatic setting of 350 degrees (F).

    He sat on a chair for a few minutes, twiddling his thumbs.  Man, waiting for stuff to bake is boring, he was starting to realize.  He took a bite of one of the unused apples he spawned, and cringed at how bitter the taste was, he mustn’t have spawned the right ones.  That’s going to affect how the tarts are going to taste, isn’t it. Great. Should probably check on the tarts now anyway, shouldn’t he. He got up slowly, almost painedly, from the chair and walked over to the oven, and opened the door.

    A huge plume of smoke escaped the oven, sending Ghost into a coughing fit and flinging the door wide open, allowing for more smoke to escape at a faster speed.  Eventually he was able to slam the oven shut in his coughing fit, and opened the singular window outside in the kitchen. He sat down and tried to regain his breath as smoke lingered near the ceiling, thankfully not setting off the smoke alarm.  He thought he saw something move near the oven, so he looked over, half convinced he was just seeing things. There was a tiny little stream of smoke leaking from behind the oven door,  _ he had forgotten to turn the oven off _ .  He bolted back to his feet and dashed over to the oven to yank the dial to the off setting, muttering swears all the way.  For a moment he just stood there, bent over the stovetop and breathing the smoky air, bracing himself to retrieve the tarts.

    Ghost huffed again and finally pulled the oven open again, expecting the plume of dark gray smoke this time and fanning it out of his face.  Not feeling like going to look for oven mitts that might not even be in the apartment, Ghost settled for pulling the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands and reaching into the hazy void to get the tray of botched pastries.  Thinking his hands were above the middle tray rack, he put his hands down where he thought the tray was, and missed. He winced when his fingers shoved into scorching metal and jolted back, only to squint into the darkness and try again.  With the oven door fully open, all the smoke was draining quick, making it easier to see inside, but not quite enough to actually make out where the tray was just yet. Ghost made a guesstimate as to where the tray could be and made a second attempt, this time actually locating it but instinctively retracting when it registered that the tray, too, in fact, was also scorching hot.  He grimaced and hardened his resolve, grabbing either side of the tray and staggering backwards, trying desperately to not fall over for the second time. Finally, he dropped the tray onto the table with a metallic clatter and surveyed the damage. 

    It looked bad.

    The tarts were varying levels of scorched and seemed to have imploded at some point, the filling no longer looking as liquid as before.  The harsh smell of burnt cinnamon filled the area. When prodded with a finger they felt hard and unyielding.

    It seemed the smoke detector was finally roused by the smell, because it chose the exact moment Ghost slumped defeatedly into one of the chairs to start blaring.  He refused to do anything about it, however, and continued sitting defeatedly, staring blankly at the ceiling. That was the state Toast found him in when he finally came out of the bedroom and took in the scene.

    “What...happened?”  He looked from the failed whatever those were supposed to be, to Ghost, and things just weren’t adding up.  “Were you trying to cook?”

    “Bake, actually.”  Ghost said tiredly, not meeting his boyfriend’s perplexed gaze.

    Toast glanced at the clock on the wall.  “At four in the morning?”

    “It was three in the morning when I started.”

    “I think that makes this even worse.”  Toast reached up and got the fire alarm down from the ceiling after a brief struggle.  “Why were you trying to bake?  _ What _ were you trying to bake, more importantly.”  Toast shut up the alarm, hopefully it wasn’t going for so long that the fire crew would show up.

    “Well, back when I was in that weird dimension, Sari almost always baked apple tarts for breakfast, and they were really good.  I wanted some of those but obviously Sari isn’t here so I...tried to make some myself.” Ghost hid the bottom half of his face in his folded arms, which were in turn propped on his knees, in an effort to conceal his embarrassment.  He could just feel how stupid he sounded.

    Toast blinked.  “By yourself?”

    “Well, yeah!”

    “Well… you tried.”

    Ghost buried the rest of his face in his arms to muffle his exasperated grunt-scream.  Toast walked over to stand next to his boyfriend and gave him a consoling pat. Ghost leaned into him, resting his head against Toast’s hip.

    “I just wanted snacks.” Ghost moaned.

    As if on cue, the door to outside burst open, practically flying off its hinges, allowing just the person to rush into the room, looking around.  “IS EVERYTHING OKA-” Sari spied the two lovebirds, “am I interrupting something?”

    “Everything is fine, Sari, don’t throw a fit.”  Ghost mumbled.

    “There’s a bunch of smoke in the room, of course I’m going to “throw a fit”!  I need to make sure you’re alright!” Sari, despite clearly referencing the smoke, and being the tallest in the room, seemed miraculously unaffected by it as she stepped into the room.  “Also, I don’t know what time it is here, but I brought some tarts, fresh from the oven.” Sari set a cloth bag on the counter, it had flower designs on it. Of course.

    “You have remarkable timing.”  Toast commented, not quite sure to make of the situation.

    “I know.”  If that was said by anyone else, it could be said that she replied smugly, but for some reason it just sounded matter-of-fact to Sari, as if she were used to people telling her this.  “Do you keep any tea in this house? I’d hate to have the tarts dry.”

    “Of course I do!  Who do you think I am?”  Toast was offended at the implication that he wouldn’t keep tea stocked.

    “I don’t know who I think you are, other than Ghost’s boyfriend, of course.  Now, where do you keep the tea?”

    For the next five or so minutes, the two set up a proper little brunch, tiny little plates to stack the tarts on, tea in the cups, and an extra chair pulled over for Sari to sit in.  Breakfast with an orc at half past four in the morning, sure, why not.

    “So what’s the story behind…” Sari began, gesturing at the charred tray that had been put in the sink along with the rest of the dishes, “that?”

    “He tried making your tarts.”  Toast explained before Ghost could stop him.  The latter flipped his hood up and angrily nibbled on a tart.

    “Is that so?  My, you’ve come so far, Ghost!”  Sari said with a grin.

    “What do you mean by that?”  Toast took a sip of tea.

    “Well, when this raccoon of a man was in our company, we had to force him to eat and sleep so we could bring him back alive.  But now he’s not only eating food of volition, but trying to cook! Whether or not he’s good at it is beside the point.” Sari laughed, thinking about how panicked Ghost must have been.  Toast could just barely see Ghost blushing profusely from in the shadows created by his hoodie.

    Toast was silent for a while as he pondered how to phrase his question.  “Why do you...care so much? I mean, I know why I do, but you guys were basically  _ strangers _ to him.”

    Sari paused for a moment, thinking.  “I don’t know.” She finally said. “I was fully ready to kill him, honestly, but Asylum called us off.  Said Ghost reminded him of Jordan. Dunno why he spared him by memory of  _ Jordan _ , that man possessed him and ruined his life.  But Asylum is an odd man, after all these years he can still pull surprises sometimes, I like the adventure.”

    “So you...do his bidding?”  Toast raised an eyebrow slightly.

    “Oh no of course not, if anything he does mine,” Sari sipped her tea, the cup being slightly too small for her to comfortably hold with both hands like a proper teacup, “I can just go a little overboard with the bloodshed sometimes is all.”

    Ghost mumbled something into his tart, but nobody else caught it.  Based on the current conversation, Toast guessed it was some quip about Sari’s apparent violent tendencies.  He didn’t think it was a good idea to ask, given Ghost’s incredibly sour mood at the moment.

    “Do you want my recipe?”  Sari asked.

    “Huh?”

    “For the tarts.  The recipe.” She elaborated.

    “Oh!  Uh, sure, couldn’t hurt.”  Toast got up and and disappeared into one of the rooms of the apartment, presumably to find a pen and paper, leaving Ghost and Sari to each other’s company.

    “Are you done embarrassing me now?”  Ghost hissed before taking a sip of tea.

    “Never.”  Sari said decisively.  “Besides, trying to learn a new skill is nothing to be ashamed of.”

    Ghost pantomimed gagging in response to Sari’s sincerity.  “Yeah, but practically setting pastries on fire and injuring myself in the process  _ is _ .” 

    Sari’s eyes widened in light of this revelation.  “Oh, Ghost, what did you  _ do _ ?” she managed to ask before dissolving into giggles.  Toast returned to see their guest laughing and his boyfriend having scrunched his hood closed.  As is very usual, he was confused about what had happened.

    “Did I miss something?  Again?”

    “Oh, nothing much.”  Sari waved a hand dismissively and regained her composure.  “Let me get this recipe down for you.” She reached for the pen and paper in Toast’s hand.  However, instead of writing, she held the pen and notebook curiously.

    “Are you sure this is a pen?”  She asked, unsure if what she was holding was actually capable of writing.

    “No, it’s an aardvark.  Yes it’s a pen.” Toast gave her a deadpan stare.

    “Aardvark?”

    Ghost snickered, earning him an incredulous look from his boyfriend.  “It’s nothing, Sari. Just, write the thing?”

    “But where’s the inkwell?”  Sari looked around the room for what wouldn’t be there.

    “The ink is in the pen, don’t worry.”  Ghost was starting to lose his patience.  He wondered if this is what they felt like when he was confused about old and or magic things in their world.

    Sari gave him a weird look, then focused on the notebook and slowly put the pen on it.  She lightly scribbled on the corner of the paper, and was pleasantly surprised to find that Ghost was correct.  “This is a very useful enchantment!” She remarked as she started to write down the recipe.

    “Enchan-”  Toast started to ask, but was swiftly jabbed in the gut by Ghost.

    “Don’t.  That conversation will take forever.”

    Toast seemed to give up for now, as he went over to the sink to wash the dishes Ghost left behind so Sari could do her thing.

    After a few minutes of relative silence, broken by Sari explaining a few things to still-slightly-embarrassed Ghost, Sari seemed done writing, or was at least satisfied with what she had written, and got up from her chair.  “All done. You  _ have _ to teach me that enchantment next time I visit!  It is much more convenient then blowing a hundred septims on good ink every month.”  She collected her embroidered bag. “You two probably have better things to do than listen to an old lady like me ramble about baking, so I’ll be taking my leave.”  She walked out the door, throwing a quick goodbye to Toast but not leaving time for him to turn around and see what’s happening.

    “...she seemed like she was in a rush.”  Toast commented, wiping a dish dry.

    “Yeah, Asylum probably did something stupid again.  She’s kind of the one that holds everything together there, really.”  Ghost tried to take a look at the recipe, then realized there was no option for a robotic voice to read it to him, rendering it incomprehensible.  “I’m gonna need you to read this.”

    “Of course you are.”  Toast dried his hands on a towel and walked into the dining area to look at the note.  “...this is all gibberish.” He said after a few moments of examining it.

    “What?”

    “I can’t understand a word that’s written here.  Foreign language, I bet.”

    “ _ OH COME ON! _ ”


	3. wlw mlm "solidarity"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brevity is the soul of wit, this chapter needs no addition
> 
> also minor gore tw for people getting shot

    It had been long enough since the last...surprise visit, that Ghost was starting to get comfortable in his own home again.  His cooking skills had improved, somewhat, he’s about to go on another ghost hunt, it was back to the usual. Hopefully he didn’t just jinx it by thinking that.

    “Come on, sir, we’re going to be late if you keep dragging your feet!”

    “Well  _ sooorryy _ I had to work the night shift!”  Ghost huffed. Still, he accelerated to keep up with Toast, who was significantly taller than him.  He hurriedly grabbed the bag of equipment from the counter and slung it over his shoulder as he rushed down to the car, catching up to his boyfriend.  When he went to put it in the trunk, however, he found that it was already occupied.

    “ _ HI! _ ”  Lena grinned manically from inside the car, perching like a gargoyle on a box.

    Ghost squawked and leapt backwards, falling right on his duffel bag.  This attracted the attention of Toast, who just looked at the blonde knight cackling in the back of his car.  “I think she and the lady at the wheel know each other.” he commented.

    “What do you  _ mean,  _ ‘lady at th-’...  _ MIMI? _ ”  Ghost griped, springing to his feet and dashing to the car’s front to see Lena’s twin reclined in the driver’s seat and giving him a smug look.  “Hey, raccoon man.” she said affably. She went to lean on the car wheel for the effect, but accidentally honked the horn on the car, making her jump high enough to hit her head on the rearview mirror.

    “ _ Why _ are you two  _ here _ ?”  Ghost was definitely already too tired of this b.s.

    “To torment you, why else?”  Mimi said, having regained her composure.

    “At least you’re up front about it.”  Ghost mumbled. He went back to the rear of the car to put his stuff away. He tossed the bag at Lena, who gasped in offense and threw it back at him.

    “Hey, what am I, a pack mule?  Carry your own damn stuff!”

    “You’re sitting in the place that’s LITERALLY intended to hold things!”  With this new information, Lena crawled out of the trunk and then closed it, sitting on top of the trunk door.  Ghost slowly exhaled through his nose and rubbed his temples. “I need that.” he said, his voice as measured as possible.

    “Okay.”  Lena didn’t budge.

    “Lena…” Mimi drawled from ahead of them, but she didn’t budge; she was too busy locked in a staredown with Ghost.

    “Lena, please move.”

    She proceeded to prop her elbow on her knee and rest her chin on her hand.  “I moved.”

    Ghost sighed deeply and pulled out his handgun.

    "What are you gonna do?  Shoot me? Better make it hurt.  Better kill me in one shot." Lena’s eerie grin only widened, confident he wouldn’t actually shoot.

    She was wrong.

    Ghost shot her, at point blank range, in the chest, splattering blood on Toast’s car and sending her lifeless body falling off onto the ground.  A moment of deafening silence reigned before Ghost found himself pinned to the ground by his shoulders.

    “Did you just do what I  _ think  _ you just did?”  Mimi seethed.

    “She’s going to come back, calm down.”

    “ **_Calm.  Down. You want ME to CALM DOWN???_ ** ”  Ghost winced as the pressure on his shoulders increased.  “ **_You just KILLED my SISTER._ ** ”  Mimi reached for her sword in its sheath, keeping Ghost pinned down with one arm.  After fumbling for a second, she managed to unsheath her sword and hold it above Ghost, ready to plunge the blade into his chest.  Ghost’s eyes widened as he realized what Mimi intended to do, when suddenly…

    A familiar voice spoke from behind them.

    “What did I  _ miss _ ?”  Lena stood, completely unperforated, by where her body was sprawled barely a few minutes ago, and was very confused about violence.  For once in her life. She walked over to the scene of the crime and looked at the blood stains. “Is that mine? Wild.” she used a finger to draw a small smiley face, complete with a helmet.  “There. Now you  _ know  _ it’s mine.”

    Mimi stared at her owlishly.  Ghost took advantage of her shock to wiggle out from under her grip and stand up.  “See? Told you.”

    Mimi looked as if she was going to say something, but she didn’t find a word to say so she just shut her mouth again.  Then she stood up and dusted off her pants. “Oh, of course, yeah, I-I knew that.” Ghost just gave her a pointed look as he rolled his shoulders, trying to see if they were broken.

    “Sure you did.   _ Anyway, _ ” Ghost said, “can we go now?  Or do you have more crimes to commit?”

    Lena perked up.  “Actually, now that you mention it--”

    “-- Asylum doesn’t know we’re here, so we should probably get going.”  Mimi finished for her sister, gripping her arm pointedly.

    “Aww what?  I wanted to see more stuff!”  Lena whined.

    “What, seeing the  _ mortal plane  _ wasn’t enough for you?”

    “It wasn’t even a  _ plane _ !  It was just like blinking my eyes and being somewhere else!”

    While the twins bickered, Toast came up behind his boyfriend.  “We’re about a half-hour late, you know.”

    “Hey, that’s not  _ my  _ fault.”

    “It’s a little bit your fault, sir.”

    Ghost ignored Toast’s sass and finally put the bag in the trunk, now that there were no rowdy twins blocking his way.  He climbed into the car and looked expectantly at Toast. “Well? We’re late aren’t we.”

    Toast cast a look at the twins, who were now shoving each other and raising their voices.  “Of course.”

    They drove off, not thinking about the fact that they left the twins unsupervised outside their apartment building.

    Eventually they did stop roughhousing, but by that time the person they had come here to torment was long gone.  “Hey hey hey wait, since he’s gone, we can go in his house right?”

    “Nobody’s here to stop us!”


	4. Putting On A Show

    “I don’t understand how this could happen!”  Spooker dragged the heavy duty trash bag along the ground as he picked up paper, vase shards, and whatever else happened to get thrown all over the place while everybody was gone.

    “I dunno man, it’s like someone threw a wild party that only took an hour.”  Colon had also been assigned to cleanup duty, equally as confused as to how this happened.  As far as he knew, nobody should have been in the building while they were gone, nobody that would do all this at any rate.  Neither of them noticed the pointed look Toast gave Ghost, whose hood was conveniently up as he threw various debris into a garbage bag.

    “I’m just as lost as you are.” he mumbled.

    Before anyone could say anything in response they heard a voice from the driveway.  “Ghost, what did you do?”

    Ghost snapped upright, immediately recognizing the voice the other three couldn’t place.  “I didn’t do anything! Thing 1 and Thing 2 came and trashed everything!”

    “Sir, you did do  _ something _ , to be fair.”  Toast quipped.

    “Shut up, Johnny.”

    “Wait,  _ you  _ did this?”  Spooker broke in.

    “What’re thing one and thing two?”  Asylum said, focusing on the least important part of the whole exchange as he walked closer to the group.

    Ghost dropped his garbage bag so he could throw his arms up in exasperation and regain control of the ruckus the conversation had devolved into.  “ _ No _ , I didn’t do this, I didn’t do  _ anything _ , and Thing One and Thing Two are also known as Mimi and Lena!”

    Asylum gave Ghost a perplexed look at the mention of the twins.  “What, they were here?”

    “Who are those people?  Who’s this guy? Why aren’t you telling us anything?!”  Spooker interjected.

    Toast noticed Ghost’s agitation and decided to intervene.  “Well, when we ran late, it was because of some… intruders.” he said delicately. “And they did… this.”

“Well, why are we cleaning it up and not them?!”  Colon pointed out indignantly.

    Asylum snorted.  “I can’t even get them to clean up at home, and you think they’re going to clean up their mess  _ here _ ?”

    “Can someone  _ please  _ tell me what is happening?”  Spooker begged.

    “What, did you not tell your friends about me?” Asylum said, turning to Ghost and not answering Spooker’s question.  “Frankly, Ghost, I’m offended.”

    “I try to avoid reliving bad memories.”  Ghost grumbled. Asylum rolled his eyes.

    “Since  _ somebody _ here is being dramatic, I can attempt an explanation.  Basically, Ghost ruined two whole weeks of my life and I want payback.  The end.”

    “Nuh- _ uh _ !”

    “That explains nothing, thanks.”  Colon said.

    “Yeah-huh!”  Asylum disregarded Colon, in favor of arguing with Ghost.

    Ghost jabbed a finger at the invader.  “I was working a job,  _ minding my own business _ , when I open a door and wind up in Fantasyville!”

    “That’s not what it’s called!”

    “Then tell the story correctly next time!”

    “What part was wrong about it?!  You crashed my wedding by throwing a rock in my face, delayed the honeymoon by a month, and got yourself thrown in jail which I had to break you out of  _ after _ I spent over half a day researching how to get you home!”  Everyone seemed to be getting more information on what’s happening by letting the two children fight, so they let it continue.

    “It wasn’t exactly a vacation for me, either.”  Ghost huffed. “Walking into another dimension wasn’t my idea, so stop acting like it was!”

    “Did you two argue this much while you were gone?”  Colon asked.

    “Yes.”  Asylum replied, and then turned back to Ghost.  “Anyway, what did you do to provoke them? The twins, I mean.”

    Ghost scuffed at the ground with his shoe.  “Nothing.”

    “I  _ sincerely  _ doubt that.”

    “Why do you always doubt me!”

    “Because I’m usually right.”

    “Look.  We were on our way to a job, when they got in our way.”

    “You forgot the part where you shot one of them.”  Toast said helpfully, reappearing with a flask in hand.

    “‘Nothing’, I don’t think that shooting one of them counts as ‘nothing’.  You got what you deserved.”

    “We didn’t!”  Spooker protested.

    “Not you, you’re fine.  I’m talking specifically about Ghost here.  This is his mess not yours, any way it’s sliced.”  Asylum reassured.

    “It’s Lena and Mimi’s mess, not mine!  And they’re my employees, as long as I pay them they do whatever I say!”

    “That doesn’t make it their mess.”  Asylum seemed almost confused.

    “Yeah, but they get paid to help me clean it up.”

    “You know what, I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me and I’m not gonna try to.”  Asylum gave up. “Point is: you messed up and I’m here to laugh at you.”

    “Don’t you have daedra duties to take care of or something?”

    “Not until 6.”  Ghost shouted in frustration at Asylum’s nonchalance, not seeming to phase anyone really.  “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna go over here and see if magic still works properly.” Asylum started to walk away from the group, but Ghost wasn’t about to have it.

    “Oh no you don’t!”  Ghost went to grab the back of Asylum’s shirt, but his hand went right through Asylum, like he was a hologram.  “...what?”

    “What?”  Asylum turned around, not aware Ghost had just tried to grab him.

    “You just-” Ghost tried to grab Asylum again, but his hand just went right through his chest, obscuring the image as if the man were made of mist.  Ghost looked confused and vaguely distressed as he pulled his hand back; it had gone cold.

    “Oh, that?  Yeah, takes a lot of effort to be corporeal outside of the Isles so I usually don’t bother.”  Asylum shrugged as if this weren’t a major revelation to Ghost, and continued walking where he was going to hopefully cast magic spells at the wall.

    Ghost, not to be deterred by Asylum’s lack of substance-- as if he didn’t deal with  _ hundreds  _ of ghosts who did similarly-- kept up with him.  “You get back here! No magicking in my dimension!”

    “What are you gonna do?  Shoot me? Good luck, raccoon man.”  Asylum scoffed, completely disregarding Ghost’s protests.  Ghost continued to follow Asylum around though, trying to get him to stop whatever it is he was going to cast, which could have not ended in a more fantastic failure.  “You really want to know what I’m gonna do, huh?”

    “Have you even been listening to me!!  I want you to  _ leave _ , not whatever it is you’re trying to do now!”

    “Alright alright, I’ll leave after I do this one thing.”

    “No!  Leave right no-”  Before Ghost could finish his sentence, he got sprayed in the face with water that came out of nowhere, making Asylum laugh. Ghost thought he heard Colon laugh too, which only irritated him more.

    “Whoa, you can do magic?!”  Spooker exclaimed.

    “Yeah, I can!  Wanna see more?”  Asylum asked, fully aware of the two responses he was going to get.

    “No!”  Shouted Ghost, in the middle of wiping his face dry with his sleeve.

    “Yes!”  Spooker said at the same time, looking like a kid on Christmas morning.

    “Well, I will never deny such an enthusiastic audience!”  It’s too late. He’s been encouraged. Asylum approached Spooker so he didn’t have to shout his next question.  “Do you have a favorite color?”

    “Oh!  It’s pink!”  He answered excitedly.

    “Pink it is!”  Asylum held up his hand for both Spooker and Colon to see that it was empty.  Then, a ball of light shimmered above his palm, and when it went away, a small pink butterfly was in its place.  Spooker gasped in wonderment as Colon stood behind him, watching over his shoulders. The butterfly fluttered up and landed on Spooker’s nose, making him go cross-eyed as he tried to keep looking at it.  “If you think that’s cool, wait till you see  _ this _ !”  Asylum turned around to face Ghost, who didn’t seem to notice what the former was up to.  The ground under Ghost’s feet began to glow, and at least a hundred butterflies popped up from the ground, swirling around him in a disorienting yellow and purple cyclone.

    “Wha-?  Hey!” Ghost swung his arms around in an attempt to make the butterflies disappear, interrupting himself constantly.

    Asylum turned to face his audience, “anything else you want to see?”

    “Ooh!  Ooh! A flower!  Can you make a flower?”  Spooker seemed to hop a little in his excitement.

    “ _ Can _ I?”  Asylum scoffed, then reached behind his back for a quick second, gaining a whole bouquet of flowers, showing it briefly to Spooker before throwing it up in the air to see if anyone catches it.  And as luck, or skill, would have it, the bouquet ended up hitting Ghost on the head.

    “Wow!  That’s so cool!!!”  Spooker basically had stars in his eyes.

    “I know!  Took me years, about a decade I think, to learn how to do all this though, talk about not having a magically adept childhood.”  He joked. “You guys don’t have magic like this here, do you? I remember being told something to that effect.”

    “I...uh…”  Spooker’s brain kicked into high gear as he tried to figure out what qualified as magic.

    “Right, depends on the running definition of magic, doesn’t it?  Silly question for me to ask.” Asylum looked more comfortable talking to Spooker, almost like he was relieved by successfully conversing with him.  This wasn’t to last very long, however, as the spell that unleashed the butterfly vortex on Ghost has now timed out.

    “Will you LEAVE NOW??”  He shouted, stomping over towards Asylum as if he were going to punch him.

    “I am in the middle of a-so far successful-conversation, and you think you can just  _ interrupt me _ ?  Who in Oblivion do you think you are?”  Asylum thought he heard the person standing behind the one he was previously talking to, who has been near silent so far, agree with him, most likely to spite Ghost.  And whoever wanted to spite Ghost had to be a decent person.

    “What  _ I _ think is that you should go bother someone else!!”

    “Seems to me you’re the only one bothered.”  Asylum said with a shrug. As he spoke he adorned Spooker with an aura of sparkles, which elicited another gasp.  Ghost, however, just pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed a sigh worth more than two decades.

    “We  _ were  _ trying to get work done here, you know.”

    “Oh yeah, urgent paranormal business I interrupted.  Really high-priority stuff.”

    “Exactly, so  _ please leave _ .”

    Asylum made a big show of sighing and rolling his eyes.  “ _ Fiiiine _ .”  He then proceeded to turn around to face his fans, making sure to have a regretful look on his face.  “I’m sorry, but your boss says I have to go.” he said mournfully as he turned to leave.

    “Aww, really?”  Spooker protested, awe replaced by disappointment.

    “Yes, really!  He’s just being a distraction!”  Ghost interjected. He started pushing Asylum along.

    “You heard him.”  Asylum said. He sidestepped, causing Ghost to lurch forward.

    “But don’t worry,” he said with a wink, “you haven’t seen the last of me.” And with that, he disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not liable for any occurrences of type two diabetes due to this chapter


	5. Baby On Board

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not letting me indent the paragraphs, I don't know what's wrong so I can't fix it. Sorry. Will fix it when I can.

Running around the palace is one of Kajsa’s favorite activities.  No real reason to it, just dashing down the halls for the sake of it, occasionally bumping into patrols or one of his friends, is just  _ really fun _ .  So that’s exactly what he’s doing at the moment, nobody else in the castle paying too much mind to him as he raced around the halls, going in and out of doors and generally being his excitable self.

In his rambunctiousness he came across the room that has a lot of glowy stuff in it, and there was a soft light coming out under the bottom of the door.  Now, usually glowing stuff was rather run of the mill, but this was the room that his mom used for magic stuff he did, and where he and the new person, who he had taken to comparing to a thin rat, though no short name had come of it yet, had dissappeared through.

Curious as to what was in there now, Kajsa nudged the door open, and stepped inside.  It seemed regular enough, grayscaled just like everything else he’s ever seen. The burn marks are still present on the ground, being the only thing of interest, which he attempted to carefully maneuver over.

As seems to be a running theme in the family, that was a bad idea.  His foot grazed the markings and they quickly became brighter than the stone that surrounded them, and a pillar of light started shining in the middle of the sigil.  Right where Kajsa’s standing.

* * *

 

He has no idea where he ended up, slightly startled and very confused as he stepped away from the where the portal dumped him.  It was starting to get dark out (though that didn’t affect him much), and there was a tree next to him, he knew that much. It looked like someone was using it for archery practice, with all the holes in the trunk.  He lumbered over to the damaged tree and put a hand on it, feeling over some of the splinters, and he realised they weren’t quite like arrow marks. He knows every sort of weapon and the damage patterns they make, due to the friends he has, but has not quite the mental acuity to try and figure out what  _ did _ make those marks.  So, as any confused toddler would, he moved on, looking at other new things, like the really big, flat rock that’s stuck in the ground!

Kajsa then went over to the weird rock and looked at it closer.  It was very flat, almost like it was carved, though still rough. Wasn’t a very good job.  He slapped the surface of the rock, finding out that it’s not hollow, which was his only concern before he went to walk on top of it, because he saw a big building on the other side of the rock, and he really wants to know what’s inside that place now.

Kajsa worked his way up towards the door, and reached for the doorknob and tried to open the door the intended way, no dice.  Huffing, he stood up as tall as he could, raised his arms as far as they would go, and slammed down on the doorknob, sending all the bits and pieces of the mechanism flying, then got back to his normal posture and pulled the door open, stepping inside.

The tile of the room he stepped into was very cold, surprising him slightly but not deterring him as he explored.  There were some of those food warming bowls hanging up on the ceiling, and lots of little doors where food is kept, hey he recognized what this room is used for!  It looked different, but it was definitely a kitchen! He went to one of the doors and opened it, finding lots of cookware which must be metal, but he didn’t recognise what its made of, so he tried to pull one of the things to look at it.

Again, that proved to be a bad idea, as all the precariously stacked pans came tumbling out of their cabinet, making a huge racket and startling the poor troll something fierce, making him bolt out of the kitchen area and on towards a room whose purpose he didn’t have time to consider, and accidentally bumped into a table there, sending  _ something _ crashing down to the ground, which only panicked him more.  He decided that cowering in the corner was the best course of action, since everything here seems extremely fragile.  He covered up all three of his eyes with his arms and sat down in the corner, quivering like a leaf in the wind.

It could have been minutes, or hours, he spent sitting in the corner, scared of everything in the house, before something happened, namely the door Kajsa had bashed open swung open again, revealing that someone had stepped inside.

“What  _ happened _ ??  Who could have possibly done this  _ now _ ?”  Kajsa slowly peeked out from behind his hands when he recognized the voice that spoke, it sounded like his newest friend but he wasn’t sure, until the person that had yelled before came stomping through the house.  Yes, that was the same bag he had chewed, that was his newest friend!! Kajsa practically launched himself at Ghost, reveling in the fact that a friend was near and he wasn’t alone anymore. Unfortunately, with the force behind Kajsa’s sprint, he basically slammed into said Ghost when he went for a hug and toppled them both over, landing on the carpet.  Kajsa didn’t care though, his friend was here!

“ _ Kajsa _ ?!  What are you  _ doing _ \-- where’s Asylum?  Or Sari? Or  _ anyone _ , for that matter?”  Ghost sputtered, his mind going in a dozen different directions.  Kajsa just seemed to shrug and kept clinging to Ghost’s legs. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected a response.”  Ghost muttered. 

The two were distracted by the  _ thud  _ of Toast’s bag hitting the floor.  “...Do I want to know?” he asked, reaching for the gun in his holster.

“Don’t.”  Ghost sighed as he gave Kajsa a head scritch.  “He’s a… friend.”

“That doesn’t explain much, sir.”

“He’s from the, you know.  Other place.”

“Very descriptive.”

“You know!  Where Asylum’s from!”

“Oh, so he’s a demon then.  That certainly makes me more comfortable.”

“No, he’s like, a dog.  With arms. You know.”

“I don’t, actually.”

In the middle of this tense discussion, Kajsa whined, wanting more pets, because he can’t comprehend the situation at hand and feels left out.  Ghost, who has not yet been released, acquiesced and gave him some neck rubs. “See? Perfectly fine. Not demonic at all.”

Toast watched skeptically as a monster from another dimension strong-armed his boyfriend into dispensing affection.  Seeing Johnny Ghost, of all people,  _ willingly  _ being affectionate with anyone who wasn’t Toast himself, was disconcerting at best and worrisome at worst.  Forget Ghost’s reassurance, for all Toast knew this creature could be neurologically manipulating Ghost into doing its bidding.

“Can you, like, let me go now?”  Ghost asked his guest. Kajsa let go, but remained firmly at Ghost’s side, seeing him as his only guardian in a cruel, foreign world.  “I don’t know why you’re so freaked out by him, he hasn’t done anything.”

“I’m  _ pretty  _ sure he did all of this.”  Toast kept his eye on the troll, who now seems to be hiding behind Ghost slightly.

“I meant anything  _ evil _ .  This is basically our place on any given Tuesday.”

Toast, again, paused to think.  It’s no use to try and convince people that are actively being neurologically manipulated that it’s happening, so he basically had no response to give.  He had to think of something, though, lest Ghost think he’s being paranoid. He’s probably thinking that now but that’s besides the point.

Ghost sighed at Toast’s lack of response.  “Well, someone’s going to notice he’s missing and come looking for him, so all we have to do is take care of him until then.  Can’t be  _ too _ hard, if Asylum can do it.”

“Famous last words…”  Toast muttered under his breath while continuing to  look at Kajsa, who acted too innocent to be what he seemed.  He also didn’t like how Ghost either didn’t notice how concerning it is that he’s acting this way with a creature that could, based on Toast’s assessment of its physique, tear him apart like string cheese should it want to, or didn’t care.  Ghost crouched down to get at eye level with Kajsa.

“Are you hungry?  Was that why you pulled apart the cabinets?”  He tried to phrase his questions as simple as possible, that Kajsa might understand.  Kajsa, thankfully, understood enough to know what he was asked, and gently slapped the ground in response, trying to get across that he was hungry, now that Ghost had mentioned it.  Ghost got back up, “alright, let's get you something to eat so you don’t wreck more things.” He walked back out to the kitchen with Kajsa right on his heels, Toast following a respectful distance behind them both.  “Hey, what do you think trolls eat? Meat or plants?”

“I don’t know how you expect me to know this.”  Toast said, confused and mildly upset by the whole situation.

“You’re supposed to be the one who knows things!”  Ghost opened the fridge, Kajsa trying to sneak a peek inside the fridge as well.

“What I know is that that  _ thing _ looks like he’s supposed to be running at you in a dark hallway or jumping out of an open sewer grate!”  After Toast’s heated comment, there was silence for a little bit.

“...so, meat?”

“Yeah, probably.”  At the agreement, Ghost rummaged around for any sort of meat in their fridge, preferably with minimal salt, because dogs can’t have salt, and since Kajsa acted similar to a dog he might have the same intolerances?  Best not to take chances with the pet of a literal god of torment. Kajsa seemed to have more luck finding something he wanted to eat though, as he smelled the open package of uncooked bacon, and was able to snatch it right from around Ghost and take off with it through the house.  “Hey!” Ghost shouted, slamming the fridge closed and running after the thief. “You don’t even know what that is, I don’t think!” Toast just watched, instead of actually doing anything.

About ten minutes later, Ghost had secured Kajsa and cajoled him back into the kitchen, under the condition that if the troll complied there’d be a second serving, and got the entire pack’s worth sizzling on the stove.  Kajsa sat patiently on the tile, staring at the bacon with an intense, unblinking gaze as Ghost occasionally flipped and poked at it. Kajsa had never heard of this  _ bacon  _ thing, but decided he needed it and now refused to let it out of his gaze.

Toast, meanwhile, had taken a seat at the table, flask out as he watched the perplexing tableau taking place in his apartment.  He wasn’t quite sure how to process the fact his boyfriend, Johnny Ghost, was currently cooking for a monster from a fantasy novel, but hell if he was going to interfere.

“Okay, I  _ think  _ that’s how long it takes bacon to cook.”  Ghost said. He winced when oil popped and spattered on his hand, but still managed to turn off the stove and dump the strips onto a plate. “Calm down, would ya?” he told Kajsa as he reared up on his hind legs and tried to reach his prize.  Finally, Ghost placed the plate on the ground not far from the table and Kajsa immediately descended upon the mystery meat he waited so patiently for.

Ghost slumped into the chair opposite his boyfriend so he could keep an eye on his guest.  “Look Johnny, I cooked bacon all by myself.”

“I mean, it’s good enough for the troll.”  Toast commented after taking a sip of whatever was in his flask this time.

“And yet he manages to be nicer than you.”  Ghost shot back.

Their back-and-forth was interrupted by Kajsa ambling up to Ghost and putting his front paws on his knees, an expression presumably akin to a grin on his face.  “Wraaa.”

“Do you have anymore bacon, sir?”  Toast asked.

“I think he ate the whole thing.”  Ghost replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

This would have proven to be quite the conundrum if not for the sudden  _ BANG  _ of a door being kicked in and rapid footsteps.

“WHERE IS MY BOY?”  Asylum hollered, looking around with a frantic look in his eyes, overturning furniture as he went.  “KAJSA?”

Toast choked silently on his drink.  Kajsa, however, recognized the voice and came trotting out into the living room where his guardian was having a conniption. 

“Oh, thank the  _ Nine _ !”  Asylum cried, dramatically dropping to his knees to embrace the relocated troll.  Kajsa eagerly returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around Asylum’s neck. “Didn’t I  _ tell you  _ not to go into the portal room?  I go out to get you mammoth bones to chew on and  _ what do you do? _  Expressly what I told you  _ not _ to do!”  Kajsa shied away and whimpered, gaze downcast.

“You’re scaring him, you jerk.”  Ghost interjected, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and his boyfriend observing over his shoulder.

“Well he scared me, too!  You can’t imagine how I felt, coming home from errands only to hear that my little boy hasn’t been seen for awhile and is nowhere on the premises!”  Asylum said with a frown. However, he was unable to stay mad in the face of Kajsa’s pitiful remorse and gave him an affectionate ruffle to indicate forgiveness.  “Guess I have to childproof a bit.” he mused as he proceeded to scoop the troll up and turn to leave.

“Hey, you get back here!  You didn’t even say thank you for babysitting your rowdy child, let alone clean up the  _ mess  _ you just made!”  Ghost said indignantly.

“Oh, like  _ you _ cleaned up any of the messes you made in my place!”  Asylum huffed, readjusting how he’s holding Kajsa. “But, thanks for taking care of Kajsa, I guess.” he added, uncertainty creeping into his voice.  He had never expected for Ghost to be in a situation where he had to watch over Kajsa, let alone do it  _ well _ .  Yet here he was, pleasantly surprised, and he had no idea how to express it.  So he just turned around and left.

Ghost and Toast stood there in the midst of Asylum’s tirade, an unusual silence settling.

“Sir, are we going to have to put all the furniture back?”

“We don’t  _ have  _ to, but it would be a good idea.”

“So it’s a no?”

“Yeah, no.”


	6. Meet the Press

**** As is unfortunately usual, Toast is drunk out of his mind on a Wednesday morning.  2 in the morning, to be exact. And with the combination of inebriation and sleep deprivation, only good decisions will happen.  Like wanting to write another book! He had fun writing the last one, he should do that again! But how can he write another one, he covered every sort of paranormal experience he had in the last one, he hadn’t had any other encounters he felt like sharing to the world.

Except he did, kinda.  There’s those interdimensional people, and creatures, that keep breaking in to harass his boyfriend, and usually end up breaking stuff as well, he could write about stuff from their world if he wanted to.  And he  _ did _ want to.  But how was he going to get that information?

Wait, isn’t that Asylum guy a demon?  He knows how to deal with demons, so getting information out of that guy couldn’t be too hard, even if he’s as as powerful as he says he is.  Should probably trap him just in case he tries anything funny, he doesn’t seem like a very trustworthy person, not to mention being a demon defined as such by his lack of sanity.  Besides, this demon entrapment thing doesn’t sound that difficult.

“What demon entrapment thing?”  Ghost mumbled, half asleep. Damn, Toast must have been narrating his thoughts like a drunk.  Again.

“Er, nothing, just thinking about writing a new book.”

“Mm.”  Ghost turned back over and tried to sleep once more.

Toast took another drink from his bottle, and got up.  Hula hoops don’t fill themselves with salt, after all.

* * *

 

The plan is complete.  The hula hoop for trapping him was filled and resealed, he translated the notes he attempted to write while piss drunk, now all he needs is to know when Asylum was going to arrive…

“Hey sir, can Asylum be summoned or does he just show up places?”  Toast slid his notepad in front of him on the table, glasses he miraculously remembered sliding down his nose slightly with the movement of his face, pen in hand.

“He just shows up ‘s far as I know.”  Ghost didn’t seem to look up from whatever it was he was doing on his phone.  “Wait, why do you want to know?”

“...no reason.”  Toast took a long sip from his cup of tea in his free hand.  Ghost glanced in sarcastic fashion up at his boyfriend, not entirely believing him but unwilling to press the matter.  Probably wasn’t much. There was a comfortable silence for a bit. “Is there any way to, like, get him to visit?”

“...are you saying you  _ want _ to talk to that guy?”  Ghost put his phone down to emphasize his incredulity.

“Well, if what you said is right, he has a lot of knowledge about this magic stuff, as well as information on whatever that weird green thing you gave bacon to is.”

“First off, that ‘weird thing’ is Kajsa, he’s a troll and a baby.  Secondly...yeah he does know a lot, but good luck trying to understand a word he says.”

“I dunno, he seemed pretty coherent to me.  Clearly crazy, but coherent.”

“No you don’t _understand_ , you _don’t_ want to be talking to him.”  
“Well, how else am I supposed to know what’s happening around here!  Rely on you?”

Ghost crossed his arms.  “Rude. Anyway, you’ll see.  He’s going to spew some J.K Rowling garbage and you’re not gonna understand a word of it and I’m gonna say  _ I told you so _ .”

“Well, it’s worth a shot.”  Toast said with a shrug.

“You don’t even know when he’s going to show up!  Are you just going to be prepared to have a fantasy investigation all the time?”

“Well, yeah.  It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever done for research.  Or the weirdest.”

“I...don’t think I want to know what you’re referring to.”  Ghost got up from the couch and walked out of the room like he had something to do, leaving Toast to his devices.  The silence in the room wasn’t meant to last, however.

“I heard you two were trash talking me?”  Asylum’s visage appeared outside the living room window, causing Toast to yelp in surprise.  “Oh, don’t act surprised. Everyone knows talking about me piques my interest.” Asylum was suddenly inside the living room instead of merely outside the window.

“You can...know when other people are talking about you?”  Toast slowly started reaching for the hula hoop he had filled with salt earlier this morning.

Asylum paused for a moment before responding, “uhhh, yeah!  Most spirits can, I thought. Or is that just a daedra thing?  Damned if I know. Never been a regular spirit.” Asylum distracted himself with his own train of thought, providing Toast the perfect opportunity to get up and slip the demon trapping hula hoop over his head.  “...what is this?”

“A precautionary measure.  Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve been told you’re a great source of information regarding magic.”  Toast angled a chair towards where Asylum is trapped, and sat down, grabbing his notebook and pencil.

“Precautionary measure?  What am I, a rabid beast?”  Asylum tried to gesture with his hands, but they bounced back to his side after going a certain distance away from his body.  He tried to stick his hand out again, slower, and was met with a similar result. He couldn’t move past the bright pink circle thing.  Great.

“No, but you’re mentally unstable and, if what I’ve heard is correct, very powerful.  No chances should be taken.” Toast flipped through the pages of the booklet, trying to find the pages he scribbled down the questions he wanted to ask on.  Asylum tried to pick up the hula hoop, but couldn’t quite get his fingers around it. He huffed in frustration.

“Okay so  _ maybe _ that’s true, but is trapping me really necessary?  I’m a decent person!”

“Mm hmm, sure.  Ah, here it is! Mind if I ask you a few questions?”  
“Yes!!  You trapped me against my will when I had no ill intentions!”  Asylum banged his hands on the invisible forcefield that held him trapped.

“Pff, no ill intentions.  Sure.” Toast scoffed. “Now are you going to help me understand what the bloody hell has been going on around here in the past few months, or are you still having a tantrum?”

“With your attitude I’m surprised you were smart enough to think up this trap.”  Asylum tried to sit down on the floor, but found the available space to be too small.  He started floating in a sitting position instead, clearly upset about having to do so.  “And it’s awfully bold of you to assume I’m just going to stop being upset.” He added, crossing one leg over the other and examining his nails.

“Right, sure.  Anyways, why do you and your...friends, come to visit suddenly?”  Toast started off with questions that aren’t technical in hopes of actually coaxing him into answering questions by the time they were gotten to.

“Why should I tell  _ you _ ?”

“...because I’m a person affected by these visits?”

“Not seein it.  You just kinda stand there for the most part.”  Asylum reclined to what limited capacity he could.  He was going to be as uncooperative as he could possibly be, it’s only fair after all.  He would have been fine with talking should he have not been confined to such a small space.

“What do you want from me?  To shoot you? Yell at you?”

“I get enough of that from Ghost, thank you very much.  What do you see in that guy, anyway?”

“He-- what?”  Toast blinked and straightened in his seat at the abrupt diversion.  “What does that have to do with anything!”

“He’s the reason I’m here,  _ duh _ !”

Toast’s glasses slid up as he pinched the bridge of his nose.  This interrogation was going in circles. Luckily he was a seasoned pro at inane interactions.

“You know, if you just answered my questions, you’d be out of here.”

"What makes you think I'm in the business of making this easier for either of us?"  Asylum continued to float there smugly, as if he wasn’t trapped in a two-foot-at-most radius by a hula hoop.

“Didn’t you just say you’re a decent person?”

“You trusted me on that?”

The two morons, both unwilling to yield, stared each other down wordlessly.  It was this scene that Ghost happened upon, drawn by the sound of arguing. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by the intruder.

“Ah, here he is!  The man of the hour!  Can you do me a favor and call off your boyfriend, here?  He’s being something of a thorn in my side.” Asylum attempted to sweet talk Ghost into having him help, doing all but batting his eyelashes.

“Why would I-- Johnny, what is even happening?”  Ghost queried, shifting his attention from the hellion hovering in his living room to the man holding a pen and paper with his legs crossed.

“Well, you remember that thing I told you about earlier…”

“You mean the  _ can I get him to visit _ thing?”

“Wait, you’re in on this, too?  Is the whole universe out to get me?”  Asylum interjected indignantly.

“If it’s not, then it should be.”  Ghost quipped, near immediately. This earned a dirty look from Asylum, who is finding that he is outmanned in terms of incorrigibility and is quickly growing tired of it.

“Feeling more up to talking now?”  Toast said, stealing the innocent charade from his captive.

“The exact opposite, actually.”  Asylum seemed to be shifting around more, visibly agitated.  Nothing at all was going according to Toast’s keikaku*, but he won’t admit it because he knows Ghost would revel in telling him he predicted this outcome.

“Why do you have to be so difficult about this?  I only have  _ maybe _ ten questions to ask you.”  Toast opted for complaining instead.

“He never will willingly help someone, believe me.”  Ghost rolled his eyes.

“I can respond for myself, thank you very much!”  Asylum said indignantly, and then failed to actually answer the question Toast had asked.

“Then answer it, if you’re so independent.”  Ghost said, breaking the silence meant to be filled by Asylum’s reply.

“...no.  Not until your scaredy cat boyfriend lets me go.”  Asylum crossed his arms.

“That’s not going to be happening.”  Toast said dryly. He was good at being difficult, he’ll give the guy that much.

“Well then, I guess we’re at a stalemate.”  The glowering resumed on Asylum’s end. It was a bad idea to come and pester Ghost today, he thinks.

“Are you just going to just sit there forever?”  Ghost whispered to Toast, already annoyed this was happening in  _ his _ living room.

“Well he’s got to crack sometime, sir.”  Toast whispered back.

“ _ Johnny _ .”

“I’m not deaf, idiots.”

“Shut it, Asylum.”  Ghost snapped at Asylum before returning to look at Toast.  “What do you even plan to ask him, anyways?”

“He wants to know about magic, I think.”  Asylum interjected.

“Interrupt me again, I dare you.”  Ghost pulled out a pistol from seemingly nowhere, and pointed it at Asylum without looking.

“Hey man I’m just trying to help.”  Asylum raised his hands flippantly.

“He’s right, I want to know about the magic he uses.”  Toast answered, almost tiredly. This was much more than he bargained for.

“See?  Was that so ha-”  Asylum’s patronizing comment was cut off by the bang of a gun shooting.  The bullet hit him, sure, but mortal blow it was not so he elected to not react accordingly to it.  “Rude.” He pouted, placing his hand near the wound, and the soft yellow glow of a healing spell started emanating from his palm.

“I warned you.”  Ghost said casually.  Toast furiously scribbled down what he was seeing.

“See, that!  What is that spell called?  What does it do?”

“This?”  Asylum seemed almost confused.  “This is a basic heal-” he stopped himself from fully answering the question.  “Sneaky. Almost got me, I’ll admit that much.” He stopped casting the spell.

“ _ Damn _ .”  Toast muttered.

“Hey, your boyfriend over there is obviously getting upset at my presence, so I’ll cut you a deal.  Let me out and I’ll take you to the biggest library I know that’s full to the brim with tomes on magical theory.”  Asylum leaned forward, still hovering. He  _ has _ to get out of here somehow.

Toast didn’t even have to ask Ghost to know what his response should be.  “Absolutely not.”

“Oh come on, you’re passing up a chance to get to learn magic from those in the top of their craft?”

“I’m passing up the chance to get stuck in a parallel dimension with a demon that drives people crazy.”  Toast deadpanned.

“Well when you put it that way, yeah fair.”  Well, that plan failed. Asylum went back to a more relaxed floating position.  “So, what other methods you got up your sleeve to try and get me to talk?”

“I…” Toast looked around awkwardly for a second, “don’t know, actually.  I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

“Great!  Since you don’t know what you’re going to do, can you let me out now?”

“No!  You have to answer at least  _ some _ of my questions!”

“UUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHH!”  Asylum stood up and banged on the barrier keeping him trapped, which didn’t make any sound and frankly looked a little silly.

“Doesn’t it hurt to do that?”  Toast asked. He thought salt was supposed to hurt spirits, though he supposed there was no direct contact so it might not.

“...should it?”  Asylum asked; he had no idea if it was supposed to hurt or not.  Toast scribbled something down on his notepad, only meaning he had indirectly answered a question.  This was going to be harder than he thought. Wait, he can still use magic inside this cage, can’t he?  That might just be enough…

“Okay, now, how do you cast a spell?”  Toast asked, looking down at the notes he had so far which, considering the time that had so far passed, was much less information than he hoped he would have.

_ How indeed _ , Asylum thought, using his knowledge of illusions to make a small buglike apparition appear, making it crawl on the inside of the ring that held him trapped.  “Hey can you uh, help me?”

“I’m not letting you out of there.”

“No no it’s not that, there’s some weird bug in here, I need you to kill it, or take it away, or anything if it gets it away from me.”  Asylum picked his feet up and hovered in the air, pretending to be uneasy by the fake bug’s presence.

“It’s just a bug, calm down.”

“Yeah well, you said it yourself that I’m not that good at being reasonable right?  Well one of my inreasonabilities is that I do  _ not _ like bugs!”

Toast rolled his eyes discretely and wrote something down in his book.  Foiled again. Asylum pouted and returned to his earlier hovering position.

“Hey Asylum.”  Ghost said, having previously been silently watching, upset by the whole debacle.

“Mm?”

“Would you answer his question for a metric ton of grapes?”

At the mention of his favorite food, Asylum seemed to almost literally light up, which Toast noted.  “ _ Would I? _ ”

“Would you?”

“ _ Would I? _ ”

“Would you?”

“ _ Would I? _ ”

“Can we please get somewhere with this?”  Toast noticed the pattern and cut it off at the pass as soon as he could.  Being the only reasonable person in the room is tiring. Asylum huffed at having his conversation interrupted.

“Yes, I would.”  Asylum thought Ghost had asked a theoretical question, and was pleasantly surprised when said man actually held up to his promise of spawning in whole bunches of grapes, which Asylum could unfortunately not reach due to being trapped by a children’s toy.  “Alright! So what do you want to know?”

* * *

 

“Well, that was definitely interesting.”  Toast understated. Asylum had just been let go to his own devices, and promptly disappeared, along with all the grapes that Ghost had spawned in.

“I tolt you you wouldn’t like talking to him.”  Ghost resumed his position on the couch.

“Well I almost have enough information to write another paper now, so I think it was worth it no matter how much you’re being a grump about it.”  Toast flipped through the pages of notes he now had.

“Yeah but can you understand  _ half _ of anything he said?”

“...no.”

“ _ Exactly. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *keikaku means plan


End file.
